Mirror
by lady.sakura.vendetta
Summary: So what would happen in M.I if the roles of Clary and Jace were reversed?  If Jace were raised a Mundie and Clary the Shadowhunter?
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so what if it were the other way around, what if Jace had been the one Jocelyn took with her? Both should have the same personalities – but if Jace was the one being introduced to the Shadowhunter world? Just curious to see what happens. Mwua! Please R&R.**

"You've got to be kidding me." Jace heard the bouncer at the door say.

Jace craned his neck to see what the commotion was. He saw a boy with electric blue hair that stuck up like the tendrils of a startled octopus and eyes that were a little too bright green to be natural. It reminded Jace of the colour of anti-freeze.

"Aww come on." He heard the boy say to the bouncer, hefting a wooden beam pointed at the end. "It's part of my costume."

The bouncer did not look impressed and he raised an eyebrow. "Which is what?"

"I'm a vampire hunter." The boy bent the beam. "It's fake. Foam rubber. See?"

Jace's best friend Simon leaned around Jace, trying to see what was going on.

"Guess he's working extra hard to get laid." Jace murmured.

Simon rolled his eyes. "You know ... just because girls flock around you doesn't mean nobody else can get any action when you're around. The sun doesn't rise and set with you, you know."

Jace chuckled lightly. "Suuuure. You keep telling yourself that."

Inside, the club was full of dry ice smoke. Coloured lights played over the dance floor, turning it into a multicoloured fairyland of blues and acid greens, hot pinks and golds.

Jace was grinding with a girl on the dance floor, passing a grin to Simon who was having less luck. But that was the way it always was. Jace would usually have to set Simon up with a girl, play wing man, and Simon would just mess it up with his gawky awkwardness. But Simon never seemed to mind.

The girl turned in Jace's arms and planted a kiss. Then she moved away.

"I have to go and get a drink ... I'll be right back." She winked and then left.

Simon edged in to Jace.

"Sometimes I really hate you. You've known her for like five minutes and she's all over you." Simon grumbled.

Jace chuckled. "Maybe we should find somebody for you. Tonight Simon ... you become a man, like me."

Simon sighed. "Sounds great."

Jace was glancing around while dancing. He was probably one of the few who _could_ actually dance here. Everyone else was just swaying back and forth with the occasional lunging as if they'd dropped a contact.

"So," Simon said. "pretty good music, eh?"

Jace's eyes stopped when he saw a gorgeous dark haired girl in a billowing white dress and he paused.

"I, for one." Simon went on. "am enjoying myself immensely."

This was unlikely. Simon as always stuck out in the club like a sore thumb, in jeans and an old T-shirt which said _made in Brooklyn_ across the front. Jace and Simon had always seemed the most unlikely pair of friends. Jace was the popular heart throb of the school ... and Simon the chess club president. He wasn't, but Jace always thought he should be.

"Mmm-Hmm." Jace said absently, eyes locked on the girl as she was sweeping towards the dance floor. He suddenly thought of ditching the girl he'd been dancing with and going to this girl. He thought he could probably give Simon the other girl. He knew Simon only came with him because he liked it here ... the least he could do was see to it that Simon got some make out time.

But that changed because he saw the weird kid from earlier with the blue hair walking up to her, and then the two crept off together, going towards the door with _NO ADMITANCE – STORAGE_. Jace felt a little deflated, and thought about wandering over to steal her from the boy.

"Meanwhile," Simon added. "I wanted to tell you that lately I've been cross dressing. Also, I'm sleeping with your Mom. I thought you should know."

The dark haired girl and the boy had reached the door and together they slipped inside. There was nothing strange about a couple sneaking off to the dark corners of the club to make out. What was strange is that it seemed that the two were being followed by two black clad people. Jace leaned up on his tip toes to get a better view. Not that he was short, but with the dancers jumping about they kept blocking his view.

He made out a dark haired boy and a red haired girl. Were they sneaking in as well to make out? Was it some kind of foursome? But he caught the flash of silver in the red-heads hand. A knife.

"Simon!" Jace shouted, seizing Simon's arm.

"What?" Simon looked alarmed. "I'm not really sleeping with your Mom. Not that she isn't an attractive woman for her age-"

"Not that!" Jace chided and then he pointed. "Do you see those two?"

Simon squinted, the shrugged. "I don't see anything?"

"Over there in the storage room ... that weird kid was going in with a girl-"

"Oh. The one you didn't think was going to get laid. Guess you were wrong."

"That's not the point. There are two people following behind them. One of them pulled a knife."

"Are you _sure_?" Simon stared harder, shaking his head. "I still don't see anyone."

"I'm sure."

Suddenly all business, Simon squared his shoulders. "I'll get one of those security guards. You stay here." He strode away, pushing through the crowd.

Jace turned in time to see the red head slip through the door, her companion right on her heels. Jace looked around; Simon was still trying to shove his way across the dance floor, but he wasn't making much progress. Even if he yelled yelled now, no one would hear him, and by the time Simon got back something terrible might _already_ have happened. Jace grinned suddenly. If he saved the raven haired beauty from a knife fight, he'd probably get more than just her number. He slipped through the crowd, narrowly avoiding the first girl he had danced with. He slipped inside.

For a moment he thought it was abandoned. He didn't see any sign of the people in here.

He took a step forwards, tangling his feet in electrical wires. He bent down to free his sneaker from the cables – and heard voices. A girls laugh. A boy answering sharply. When he straightened up, he saw them.

It was as if they had sprung into existence between one blink of an eye and the next. There was the dark haired girl he had thought needed saving. The red head and the dark haired boy were standing beside her.

The red head was standing with her hands in her pockets, facing the blue haired punk boy who had been tied to a pillar with what looked like piano wire. The boys face was pulled tight with pain and fear.

Jace's heart hammered in his chest, thinking that perhaps the girl didn't need saving after all. He ducked behind the nearest pillar, peering out from behind it. He watched as the red haired girl paced back and forth, arms crossed over her chest.

"So," The red head said. "you still haven't told me if there are any other of your kind here."

_Your kind?_ Jace wondered what she was talking about. Had he stumbled into some kind of drug war?

"I don't know what you're talking about." The punk-kid's tone was plain but surly.

"He means demons," Said the dark haired boy, speaking for the first time. "You know what a demon is, don't you?"

The punk-kid turned his face away, his mouth working.

"Demons," Drawled the red-head, tracing the word on the air with her slender finger, her hair catching the light and blazing like fire. "Religiously defined as hell's denizens, the servants of Satan, but for the purposes of the Clave, to be any malevolent spirit whose origin is outside our own home dimension-"

"That's enough, Clary." The dark haired girl said.

"Isabelle's right," Agreed the taller boy. "Nobody here needs a lesson in semantics – or demonology."

_They're crazy_, Jace thought, _Actually crazy_.

Clary looked at the demon calmly. Then she shrugged. "Isabelle and Alec think I talk too much." She confided mockingly. "Do _you_ think I talk too much?"

The blue-haired boy didn't reply. Then he said: "I could give you information." He looked at Clary. "I know where Valentine is."

Clary glanced back at Alec, who shrugged. "Valentine is in the ground," Clary said, tossing her head sending her hair spilling backwards from her shoulder. "The thing's just toying with us."

Isabelle set her hand on her hip. "Kill it, Clary." She said. "It's not going to tell us anything."

Clary raised her hand and Jace saw the dim light spark off the knife she was holding. It was oddly translucent, the blade clear as crystal, sharp as a shard of glass, the hilt set with red stones.

The blue-haired boy gasped. "Valentine is back!" he protested. "All the Infernal Worlds know it – I now it – I can tell you where he is-"

Rage suddenly flared in Clary's green eyes. "By the angel, every time we capture one of you bastards, you claim you know where Valentine is. This is getting ridiculous." Clary turned the knife in her hand, the edge sparking like a line of fire. "Say hi to him on your way down to hell!"

Jace suddenly jumped up. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Clary whirled, so startled that the knife dropped from her hand and clattered against the concrete. Everyone turned and looked utterly surprised, even the captive boy.

"What's this?" The dark haired boy demanded.

"Are you people on drugs?" Jace demanded.

The three looked at one another.

"You can see us?" Clary asked.

"I'm not blind." Jace said.

This seemed to amuse Clary. "Oh yes you are. You just don't know it yet." She sighed as if weary of him. "You'd better get out of here. If you know what's good for you."

"No way." Jace's voice was firm. "If I leave here you'll kill that guy."

"That's true." Clary said as if it were a big confession. "What do you care I kill him or not?"

This seemed to stump Jace. "B-because. You just can't go around killing people."

"You're right." Clary said, smiling. "You can't go around killing _people_." She turned to the boy tied up to the pillar. "But I'm afraid this one isn't exactly a person. It may look like a person and talk like a person, and sometimes even bleed like a person. But the truth is it's a monster-"

"_Clary_," Isabelle warned. "That's enough."

"The men in white coats need you guys back." Jace said, rolling his eyes. "I've called the police. They'll be here any second."

"He's lying." Alec said, though doubt showed on his face. "Clary, do you-"

He never got to finish his sentence. The blue-haired boy broke free of his restraints, and with a yowling cry threw himself at Clary. They fell to the ground and rolled together. Jace backed up suddenly and uncertain of what to do. His leg caught on a loop of wire and he tumbled back, hitting the ground knocking the air from his lungs.

He heard Isabelle shrieking. Jace rolled over, and saw the blue-haired boy was sitting on Clary, blood gleaming on his razor-like claws.

Isabelle and Alec were running over. The punk boy was bringing his claws down, and Clary brought her arms up to protect her head. The boys claws raked over her arms sending a spatter of blood. Isabelle brandished her whip, whirling it around and striking the blue-haired boy in the back. The punk-kid fell away.

Clary was fast, and she rolled, grasping the knife from the ground. She sank the knife deep into the boys chest sending a spray of blackish liquid around the hilt. The boy collapsed to the floor, gurgling and twisting. Glowering, Clary stood. Her dark shirt was darker in some places, damp with blood. She bent down and yanked the knife out, slicked with black blood.

The blue haired boy growled.

"So be it …" he hissed. "The Forsaken will take you all!"

Clary grimaced, leering down at the boy. His body was crumpling away, getting smaller and smaller and then he was gone completely.

Jace meanwhile had untangled his foot from the wiring. He scrambled to his feet, backing away.

Isabelle gave a flick of her wrist and her whip coiled around his wrist and then she jerked it tight. Jace gasped with surprise, and a sharp pain ran up his wrist.

"Stupid little mundie," Isabelle said between her teeth. "You could have gotten Clary killed."

"Just who do you people think you are? Vigilante killers? The police-"

"The police aren't usually interested unless you can produce a body." Clary said, cradling her injured arm. She picked her way over the cable strewn floor towards Jace. Alec followed behind her, face twisted into a scowl.

Jace glanced at the spot where the boy had vanished, unable to think of anything to say. There wasn't even a trace of blood. Nothing.

"They return to their dimension when they die." Clary said. "In case you were wondering."

"_Clary_." Alec hissed. "Be careful."

Clary drew in nearer, her face flecked with blood. Jace thought she was pretty in a strange sort of way. He'd never really been much into red heads. But there was something to her. She looked at him intently, eye locking with his, like a predator measuring up its prey. Her hair blazed in the dim light.

"It's a little late for that." Clary said. "He can see us. He already knows too much."

Jace swallowed, feeling a little threatened.

"What should we do with him?" Isabelle demanded.

"Let him go." Clary said quietly.

Isabelle shot her a surprised and almost angry look, but didn't argue. The whip slithered away.

Jace rubbed his sore wrist and wondered what he would need to do to get out of here.

"Maybe we should bring him back with us." Alec said. "I bet Hodge would like to talk to him."

"No way are we brining him back to the Institute." Isabelle said. "He's a _mundie_."

Clary smiled. "Or is he?"

Jace liked her tone less than Isabelle's snapping or Alec's anger. There was something odd lying beneath it that unsettled him.

"Have you had dealings with demon, little boy? Walked with warlocks, talked with the Night Children? Have you-"

"Hey who are you calling little, shorty." Jace snapped haughtily. "And I have no idea what you're talking about." _Don't you?_ A voice echoed in the back of his mind. _You saw that boy vanish into thin air. Clary isn't crazy – you just wish she was._ "I don't believe in demons. Or what ever else you psychos are-"

"Jace?" It was Simon's voice.

Jace whirled around. Simon was standing by the storage room door. One of the burly bouncers had been stamping hands at the door was beside him.

"Are you okay?" Simon asked, peering around. "Why are you in here by yourself? What happened to the guys – the ones with the knives?"

Jace turned to the three. Clary was grinning broadly and she shrugged. Jace sighed. He was the only one who could see them.

"Sorry. I made a mistake." Jace said, feeling like an idiot.

* * *

"We'll be lucky if they ever let us in the club ever again." Simon said, slumping forwards. "That was a really embarrassing mistake."

Jace tried hailing a cab but it drove away.

"What happened to you?" Simon asked.

"I don't think there were people with knives. I think I just imagined it. I'm going utterly insane."

"No way." Simon raised his hand, but yet another cab whizzed by him, spraying dirty water. "I saw your face. You looked seriously freaked out. I've never seen you like that."

Jace looked down at his arm, braceletted by the red line from Isabelle's whip. _Not a ghost_, he thought grimly, _something weirder than even that_.

"It was just a mistake." Jace sighed, but he wondered why he wasn't telling Simon the truth. He _was_ his best friend after all. Maybe it was the fact that there was something daunting about what had happened. The black blood bubbling up around the hilt of Clary knife. What she had said to him. The expression on her face.

"It doesn't matter." Jace said. "I mean you don't even like it in that club." He raised his hand and finally a cab screeched to a stop. "_Finally_. Some _good__luck."_

Simon leaned forwards to the cabbie. "We're going to Brooklyn."

Then the two boys slumped back into the cab. Simon looked at Jace.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" Simon said.

"Yeah. I know." Jace said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay. Still working on this. It will change it a little but ultimately it will end the same. Yay. I was just curious to see what would happen if Jace and Clary switched places but kept their personalities. Please R&R.**

Jace was lying on his bed, earphones from his Ipod in his ears blasting _Stepping Razor_. He was aware of a jingling cutting through the sound. Jace pulled an ear phone out and then ran to answer the phone.

"Is this Jace Fray?" A vagually familiar voice came

"Yeeesss." Jace said, the phone clenched into his neck as he took the phone into his room.

"Hi. I'm on of the knife-carrying hooligans you met last night in Pandemonium? I'm afraid I made a bad impression and I was hoping you'd give me a chance to make it up to-"

"SIMON!" Jace pulled the phone away from his ear as Simon started laughing. "That's not funny!"

"Sure it is. You just don't see the humour."

"Ugh." Jace said. "You wouldn't either if you just got a proverbial grenade launched at you for coming home too late. My Mom freaked out! It was messy."

"What? It's not our fault there was traffic."

"Yeah well … try telling that to my Mom. She said that I can't go there _ever_ again. Worst still that I've let her down, she's disappointed in me … blah, blah blah. I'm the _bane of her existence._" Jace mimicked his mothers tone.

"So … she grounded you?"

Jace could hear a rumble of low voices behind Simon, voices shouting over one another. No doubt Simon was with Eric. The two lived next door, and while they were no where near as close as he and Jace, they had started a band and practiced frequently. Even though Eric sucked and had no redeemable skills what so ever.

"I don't think so. Not specifically." Jace said. "She took off this morning with Luke and she hasn't come back yet. Go figure."

"Well … Eric is doing a poetry reading and the band was going to go and support him. It's at Java Jones. Do you want to come?"

Jace thought about it. "I don't know … maybe. My Mom is pretty pissed at me, I don't want to make it worse by asking for any favours. If I'm going to get into trouble I don't want it to be on account of Eric's lousy poetry."

The background noise on the phone grew louder, a cymbal crashed and Jace had to pull the phone away when Simon shouted for everyone to be quiet. When Jace was sure he was done he put the phone back in time to hear Simon say:

"Come on, it's not _that_ bad." Simon said. "Besides I'm not asking you to some orgy in Hoboken."

"ORGY IN HONOKEN?" Jace heard somebody shout in the background.

"If all of you guys show up here, Mom will blow a gasket. It will _literally_ be ground zero. I'm not kidding."

"Then I'll come alone. I'll pick you up and meet the guys there. Your Mom won't mind, she loves me."

Jace rolled his eyes. "Sign of her questionable taste if you ask me."

"Nobody did." Simon pointed out, and then hung up.

Jace sighed and slumped back onto his bed. He then slipped his shoes on. He strode into the living room. His mothers artistic tendencies were everywhere from the painting on the wall that she had done, to the cushions scattered over the sofa.

Jace looked at the picture of his late father on he mantelpiece. He had been a decorated soldier in the military … but that didn't save his life when he was killed in a car crash. He had died before Jace was born. Apparently his father had left his mother a good sum of money and some stocks.

His mother kept a black box with the initial J.C at her bedside, with a wedding ring and a lock of golden hair. Sometimes Jace had seen her with the box open, and she had been crying softly.

He heard somebody coming up the stairs and hurriedly he grabbed a book and tried to look busy. Then Luke came lumbering into the room carrying flattened boxes and a tape gun. Luke looked at Jace, and his brows rose.

"You do know you're reading that upside down?" Luke said. "Take it from a book expert, it doesn't enhance the experience."

Jace set the book down. "Hey U- I mean Luke."

"I heard you and your Mom got into a spat." Luke said.

"What're the boxes for?" Jace asked, avoiding the question.

"Oh … you're Mom wants to get rid of some clutter." There was a tightness in his voice that Jace didn't like.

"Can I ask you something?" Jace asked.

Luke was opening out the boxes and taping them together. "Mmm?"

"Did you ever … what would you do if you were the only one who could see something … something nobody else could?"

Luke dropped the tape gun and bent down to pick it up. "You mean like if you witnessed a crime?" He pushed his glasses further up his nose.

Jace sighed. "Maybe …"

Luke turned and looked at Jace. His eyes were blue, glowing from behind his glasses. Luke had been the closest thing to a father Jace had ever known. His eyes were firm but affectionate, just the way they always were.

Then Jocelyn – Jace's Mom walked in. Jace had looked nothing like her, she had auburn hair which she had pinned back with a pen. She wore overalls over a lavender shirt. She looked at Jace. He caught the look between his Mom and Luke.

"What's going on?" Jace demanded. "What are the boxes for?"

Jocelyn looked at him, biting her lip. He could see the half moons of dark circles. She looked tired, and run down.

"If this is about last night, I told you I was sorry." Jace said.

"Sit down, Jace." Jocelyn said. "I need to talk to you."

ace hesitated, but then he complied. The two sank down while Luke hovered awkwardly.

"It's not _completely_ about last night." Jocelyn tucking her hair behind her ears.

"What do you want to tell me?" Jace was starting to feel grim.

Jocelyn bit her lip again and hung her head.

"Just tell him, Jocelyn." Luke said.

"Luke …"

Jace huffed. "I am still here you know." He said. "Just what the hell is going on?"

"_Language_!" Jocelyn chided.

Jace huffed again, locking eyes with her as if to say _get on with it_.

Jocelyn expelled a long breath. "We're going on vacation."

Luke's expression went blank, like a canvas wiped of paint.

Jace shook his head. "That's what this is about? You're going on vacation?" Jace sank back into the cushions. "I don't get it. Why the big production?"

"I don't think you understand." Jocelyn said. "I meant we're _all_ going on vacation. The three of us. You, me and Luke. We're going to the farmhouse."

"Oh." Jace's brows drew together. He looked at Luke, but he had his arms folded over his chest and was staring out the window, his jaw pulled tight.

Jace wondered what it was upsetting him. He loved the old farmhouse in upstate New York – he;d bought it and restored it himself ten years ago, and he went there when ever he could.

"How long for?" Jace asked slowly.

"For the rest of the summer." Jocelyn said quickly. "I brought the boxes for you to pack some things."

"For the _rest of the summer_?" Jace sat upright, throwing himself to his feet. "No way."

"Jace Fray …" His mother's tone was hard.

"No. This isn't fair. I was only a little late." He turned to Luke. "Tell her this isn't fair!"

Luke didn't look away form the window, tough a muscle jumped in his cheeks. "She's your mother. It's her decision to make."

Jace turned to Jocelyn who was standing. "This is total bull."

"Look, Jace, sometimes we have to do things we don't want to, it's part of being a man. Life isn't always fair." She said.

"Can't you come up with something better than that?"

"I have to get away." Jocelyn said, gripping his arm. "I need the peace to paint, money is tight right now-"

"So sell some of Dad's stocks." Jace snapped. "That's what you usually do, isn't it?"

Jocelyn recoiled and let go of him. "That's hardly fair."

"Yeah well you said it yourself, life's not fair." Jace folded his arms over his chest. "Look, go if you want to. I'll stay here. I can work, I can get a job at Starbucks or something. Simon says they're always hiring. I'm old enough to take care of myself-"

"No!" The sharpness in Jocelyn's voice made Jace jump. "This isn't optional. You're too young to stay here on your own. Something could happen."

"Like what?" Jace rolled his eyes.

There was a crash. Jace turned to find that Luke had knocked over a picture and was setting it back on. Once done, his mouth was set into a grim line.

"I'm leaving." He said.

Jocelyn bit her lip. "Wait," She hurried after him, and Jace caught the hushed whisper of " … Bane." She chased after Luke. " … I've been calling him for weeks but his voicemail says he's in Tanzania. What am I supposed to be?"

"Jocelyn." Luke shook his head. "You can't keep going to him forever."

"But Jace-"

"Isn't him." Luke hissed. "You've never been the same since it happened."

_What does my father have to do with this?_ Jace thought.

"I can't just keep him at home, not let him go out. He wont put up with it."

"Of course he won't." Luke sounded angry. "He's a teenager, not a pet. Almost an adult."

"If we were out of the city …"

"Talk to him, Jocelyn." Luke's voice was firm. "I mean it." He reached for the door knob.

The door flew open. Jocelyn gave a little scream.

"Jesus!" Luke exclaimed.

"Actually it's me." Simon said. "Although I've been told the resemblance is startling." He waved to Jace who was padding over. "You ready?"

Jocelyn took her hand away form her mouth. "Simon, were you eavedropping?"

Simon blinked. "No, I just got here." He looked from Jocelyn's stricken face to Luke's grim one. "Is something wrong? Should I go?"

"Don't bother." Luke said. "I think we're done." He pushed passed Simon, thudding down stairs at a rapid pace. Downstairs the door slammed.

Simon hovered in the doorway, uncertain. "I can come back later," he said. "Really. It wouldn't be a problem."

"That might-" Jocelyn began, but Jace was already walking over.

"Forget it, Simon. We're leaving." He grabbed his bag from the hook by the door and stomped out. "See you later, Mom. Don't wait up."

"Jace! Don't you think we should talk about this?" She grabbed Jace's arm.

Jace turned to her. "Well we'll have plenty of time to _talk_ while we're on _vacation_."

And he stormed out. Simon looked apologetically to Jocelyn and then chased after Jace.

"Jace! Wait up!" Simon chased after him down the steps.

Jace skidded to a halt. He turned to Simon.

"Sorry. Guess I kind of lost it."

Simon caught up with him. "We don't have to go. You can go back."

Jace sighed. "No. I need to get out of here … blow off some steam."

The two stood there for a while. Then the door to Madam Dorothea's swung open. He was tall, with maple syrup coloured skin, gold-green eyes like a cats and tangled black hair. He grinned blindingly showing sharp white teeth.

Jace suddenly felt dizzy and he set his hand to his head.

"Jace, are you okay?" Simon said.

Jace shook his head. "Yeah. Sorry. I think I just saw Dorothea's cat." He sighed. "Let's go. If we're lucky we can get a seat right at the back, so we can hide and deny we even know Eric."


	3. Chapter 3

**Next update in one night. Wow. It's not like I *need* sleep anyway. Anyway, any R&R is appreciated. Just to make the point: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING IN M.I OR ANY OF THE CHARACTERS THOSE BELONG TO CASSADRA CLARE. This is purely a fan fic, made by a fan for fans.**

* * *

"I can't believe this." Jace said, dipping his nachos into guacamole. "She doesn't let me do anything."

"Well you know how your Mom gets." Simons said. "Like every time she breathes in and out." He grinned at Jace around his veggie burrito.

"I'm glad you think it's funny. I'm going to be stuck on the farm all summer long. No girls … no civilisation … nothing." Jace sighed, slumping forwards.

"Jace …" Simon said. "You know she's only looking out for you."

"I wish she'd stop."

"You know your Mom won't keep you there forever." Simon said.

"I'm starting to think I don't know her at all." Jace swept up the last of his food.

"Say what?"

"Well … She never talks about herself. I don't know anything about her, not really. Nothing about her early life, or much about how she met my Dad. She doesn't even have wedding photos. It's like her life started when she had me, or at least that's what she says."

"Aw." Simon made a face. "That's cute."

"No, it isn't. It's weird." Jace said. "I don't know anything about my grandparents. I mean, I know my Dad's parents weren't nice to her, but could they have been _that_ bad? What kind of people don't want to meet their grandchild?"

"Maybe she hates them. Maybe they were abusive or something." Simon suggested. "She does have those scars."

Jace stared at him. "She has what?"

Simon swallowed a mouthful of his burrito. "Those thin little scars. All over her back and her arms. I _have _seen your mother in a bathing suit, you know."

Jace shrugged. "Never noticed. Now come on. Let's get to Java Jones. The waitress there is cute. Bet I can get her number and then hide before Eric gets there."

As they swept out Jace's cell phone rang. He looked at it. It was his Mom.

"You gonna get that?" Simon asked,

"No. Let her sweat a little." And he clicked the call onto voice mail.

"You know you can stay at my house if you want."

"I'll see if she calms down first."

Jace then clicked on the voicemail.

_Baby I'm sorry if I sprang the vacation plan on you. Come home and we'll talk._

Jace slammed his phone closed.

"Do you want to talk to her?"

"I don't know." Jace stood. "Let's head off. Come on."

The air outside was humid. The two made their way down the street.

"How's the band coming along?" Jace asked.

Simon's face lit. "We're talking names." He said. "Matt says he knows someone can get us a gig at The Scrap Bar."

"What name have you decided on?"

"We're deciding between Sea Vegetable Conspiracy or Rock Solid Panda."

Jace grimaced. "Ugh."

"Eric suggested Lawn Chair Crisis."

Jace rolled his eyes. "Maybe Eric should stick to gaming."

"We'd need to find a new drummer."

Jace laughed. "Oh. Is that what he does. I thought he just mooched off people and took away your chances of making it with the ladies."

The two swept into Java Jones. They sank down into a seat.

"You know Eric has a girlfriend." Simon pointed out.

Jace scoffed. "Yeah. Sure."

"I'm serious. Sheila Barbarino."

Jace laughed. "Oh. That makes sense. Sheila 'the thong' Barbarino. Even I wouldn't touch that."

"They've been going out for here months." Simon said.

"Practically married." Jace said. "It shows there really is somebody for everyone."

Simon laughed. "Yeah. I guess so." He stood. "I'll go and get some drinks and then we can hide."

"Yeah. It's going to suck so hard." Jace predicted.

"Look … I'm nothing if not a man of my word." He said. "Anyway, what do you want?"

"Just coffee. Black – _like my soul_." Jace grinned.

Simon went off to go and get coffee. Then Eric started his poetry.

"All right, I'm Eric!" He said, grasping the mic. "This is my homeboy Matt on the drums. My first poem is called 'Untitled'." He screwed up his face as if in pain and he wailed into the mic. "_Come my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal! Turgid is my torment! Agony swells within!_"

Jace slumped into his seat wishing he could vanish.

"Is that your friend?" A voice said from somebody who was leaning over the booth seat.

"I do not know that guy." Jace said quickly, and then he looked up.

Above him was a red haired girl, her green eyes looking at him.

"It's you …" Jace said, sitting up.

Clary grinned and slipped out of the seat , leaning against the booth. Her arms were bare, and she wore the same dark clothes she had worn the other night.

"Hi there." Clary said. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Jace!" Simon was walking over.

Jace looked at Simon but he didn't seem to notice Clary was there. Jace looked at her and her grin broadened.

"Don't you see her …?" Jace said.

Simon's brow furrowed. "Who?"

Clary chuckled, and then headed for the door, looking back at Jace, indicating he should follow.

"Jace, are you okay?" Simon said.

Jace stood. "I'll be right back …" He said, springing out the door, chasing after Clary.

He burst through the doors and found Clary standing there, slouched against a wall, arms folded over her chest. In the rapidly falling twilight her hair sparkled like a smouldering fire. Her face was splayed with freckles, and her arms covered in strange white marks.

"Your friends poetry is terrible." Clary said.

Jace blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"He sounds like he ate a dictionary and started randomly vomiting up words."

"I don't care about Eric's poetry." Jace was starting to lose his temper. "I want to know why you're following me."

Clary shrugged. "Now what makes you think that?"

"Nice try." Jace said. "Tell you what, how about I call the police?"

Clary barely stifled her laughter. "And tell them what? That invisible people are bothering you? They normally lock mundanes up for that, boy."

"My name is Jace." He snapped. "Not boy."

Clary looked as if she were tasting the name on her tongue. "Hmm. Has a ring to it. Not bad."

Jace looked exasperated. "Just who are you?"

"You don't know much, do you?" Clary regarded him as if he were a child that were constantly asking the same irritating questions. She circled him. "It's strange. You look like a mundane … and you act like a mundane … but you can see me. It's a conundrum."

"What's a mundane?"

"Someone of the human world. Someone like you."

Jace felt as if she weren't even answering his questions. "You're human."

Clary stopped in front of him. "I am." She said. "But not like you." She didn't seem like she cared whether or not he believed her. She just looked calm. "You know it's laughable because Hodge seems to think you're dangerous. But if you are, you certainly don't know it."

"If you don't start answering my question properly, you're going to see just how dangerous I am." Jace said, but it seemed to amuse her. "Who is this Hodge guy? You mentioned him last night."

"My tutor." Clary said. "Give me your hand."

Jace stepped away from her. "What the hell for?"

"Just do it. I won't hurt you." Clary said.

Jace held out his right hand. Clary checked it, and then frowned.

"Are you left handed?" She asked.

"Yes."

A smile flickered over her face. "Oh. Give me your other hand then."

Jace jerked his hand from hers. "Ugh. What is wrong with you?" He sighed. "If I show you my hand, will you _please_ leave me alone?"

Clary nodded. "Of course."

Jace wasn't sure about the humour in her voice, but begrudgingly he handed her his left hand.

"Still nothing …" Clary said. "That's strange."

"What?"

"Most Shadowhunters get their first Mark on their right hand – or left if they're left handed when they're still young. It's a permanent rune that lends an extra skill with weapons." Clary showed him her right hand, which was lightly dusted with freckles.

"I don't see anything." Jace said.

"Let your mind relax." Clary suggested. "Wait for it to come to you. Like waiting for something to rise to the surface of the water."

"You know … you're the craziest chick I've ever met." Jace said, but he did as she asked.

True enough he saw tiny lines jump across her knuckles, the long joints of her fingers … and it jumped out suddenly like a flashing _DON'T WALK_ sign. A black design of an eye showed through.

"You have a tattoo?" Jace said, meeting her gaze.

She smiled and lowered her hand. "I thought you could do it. And it's not a tattoo. It's a Mark. They're runes burned into our skin."

Jace snickered. "You're telling me some doodle on your hand makes you handle weapons better?"

"We have many other different Marks, each does something different. Some are permanent like that, others vanish once they've been used." Clary pointed to her arms.

Jace remembered the winding black lines that had covered her that night, and now he realised they were no longer there. "So that's why I can't see them, not even when I concentrate."

"That's exactly why." Clary looked pleased. "I knew you had the Sight at least." She looked up at the sky. "It's getting dark. We should go."

Jace folded his arms over his chest. "We?"

"That's right. You and me."

Jace laughed, shaking his head. "Listen, I'm really flattered, sweat heart … but I really don't go for girls who kill and maim things in a night club, okay? And I especially don't go for short girls either."

Clary narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not _that_ short. And you are _not_ as charming as you think you are."

Jace frowned. "Look … you said if I showed you my hands you'd leave me alone."

Clary smiled. "I lied." She said without a shred of embarrassment. "Hodge said I have to bring you back to the Institute with me. He wants to talk to you."

"Why would he want to talk to me?"

"Because you know the truth now." Clary said. "There hasn't been a mundane who knew about us for at least a hundred years."

"About _us_?" Jace spat. "You mean people who believe in demons like some cult-"

"People who kill them." Clary correct smoothly. "We're called Shadowhunters. At least that's what we call ourselves. Downworlders have less … flattering … words for us."

"Downworlders?"

Clary sighed deeply as if she were becoming irritated. "The Night Children. Warlocks. The Fey. The magical folk of this dimension."

Jace shook his head. "Oh don't stop there. What's next, vampires and werewolves … oh wait lets not forget zombies."

"Of course there are." Clary said as if it should be obvious. "Although you normally find zomies further south where the _voudun_ priests are."

Jace rolled his eyes. "And I suppose Mummies only hang out in Egypt?"

Clary scoffed. "Now you're the one being ridiculous. Nobody believes in Mummies."

Jace just stared at her.

"Hodge will explain this better when we get there."

Jace folded his arms over his chest. "Who says I'm going anywhere with you?"

"That's not my problem. The detail of willing or unwilling is just that – a detail and much like your brain – _it's tiny_." Clary shrugged. "But you're coming with me."

"Are you threatening to _kidnap_ me?" Jace looked at her incredulously.

"If you want to look at it that way, sure."

Jace opened his mouth to speak, but then his phone buzzed loudly.

"Go ahead. Answer it if you want." Clary said.

The phone stopped ringing and then started again. Jace answered.

"Mom?"

"Oh Jace!" His mother said. "Thank God." A sharp prickle of alarm ran through Jace at his mothers tone. "Listen to me-"

"It's all right. I'm on my way home-"

"NO!" Terror scraped his mothers voice. "Don't come home. Whatever you do … don't come home. Do you understand me, Jace? Go to Simons. Go straight there. Call Luke, tell him he's found me. Don't you dare come home-" A series of loud clattering noises in the background.

"Mom? Who's found you?" Jace shouted. "MOM?"

There was an eerie silence and then, her voice was calm, so much so that it shook through Jace. "Jace … I love you so much."

And the phone went dead.


	4. Chapter 4

He tried redialling, his hands shaking. He got a dead tone. He tried again and then in frustration he threw the phone to the ground.

"Dammit!" He cursed, bending down the retrieve his cracked phone.

"Stop that!" Clary said, hauling him to his feet, her fingers gripping his wrist. "Has something happened?"

"Give me your phone!" Jace said, grabbing the black metal oblong he saw in her shirt pocket. "I have to-"

"It's not a phone." Clary said, but she didn't try and take it back. "It's a Sensor. You won't be able to use it."

"But I have to call the police!"

"Tell me what happened first." Clary gripped Jace's wrists tighter as he wriggled in her grasp. "I can help you."

Rage flooded through Jace. All he could think about was his mothers voice. He yanked away from Clary, tearing free from her grip. Jace bolted away. He turned his head, expecting Clary to be hot on his heels. But he didn't see her. He made his way home.

Jace had stopped at a _DON'T WALK_ sign. He jittered impatiently on his heals, and glanced down at the thing he had taken from Clary. She hadn't been lying. It wasn't a phone … or at least it wasn't like any kind Jace had ever seen before. The Sensors buttons didn't have numbers, instead it had weird symbols on it, and there was no screen.

The lights changed and he sped across the road and to his apartment. He tried to assure himself that his mother was fine. That everything was fine. But as he came to the entryway his stomach tightened. From outside he had seen the second floor windows were lit. But inside the overhead light had burnt out, and they foyer was in darkness.

He shivered and started up the stairs.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Said voice.

Jace whirled. "What-"

He broke off. His eyes were still adjusting to the darkness. Madam Dorothea was standing in the doorway.

"Your mother," Dorothea said. "has been making a god-awful racket up there. What's she doing? Moving furniture?"

"I don't think-"

"And the stairwell light's burnt out, did you notice?" Dorothea carried on. "Can't your mother get her boyfriend to change it?"

"Luke isn't-"

"The skylight needs washing too. It's filthy. No wonder its pitch black in here."

Jace scowled. "Look, he's not her boyfriend and he's _not_ the landlord. So get back in your place and mind your own business."

Dorothea made an indignant sound and slunk into her apartment and slammed the door.

Jace bounded up the steps. The door was hanging open. His heart slammed into his chest. Gulping, he pushed the door open.

The apartment lights were on, all of the lamps turned up to full brightness. His mothers keys and handbag were on the wrought iron shelf by the door, where she always left them.

"Mom?" Jace called. "Mom, I'm home."

There was no reply. Jace paced further inside. The windows were wide open, the curtains billowing. The cushions had been ripped from the sofa and scattered around the room. The piano bench lay on its side.

Jace sucked in a breath when he saw the paintings had been cut from their frames, which were strewn over the floor.

"MOM?" Jace screamed, terror building in him.

He raced into the kitchen. It was empty, cabinet doors open and there was a smashed bottle of Tabasco sauce over the linoleum. Jace wondered if it was robbers … but what kind of robbers didn't take the TV, or DVD player … the expensive laptops or his Mom's handbag?

His gaze went to his mother's bedroom. On shaking legs he wandered over. It seemed this room had been left. Jace saw his picture on her bedside.

_Mom …_ Jace cried inside. _What's happened to you?_

A noise sounded through the apartment and Jace turned. It sounded like something being knocked over. Then there came a dragging noise … like a slither. Jace's heart beat sped up even more and he sucked in a breath to steel himself. He turned … and saw a Ravener demon crouched in the doorway moments before it leapt for him.

Jace found himself crying out as he whirled out of its way. It missed him only by inches and went skidding over the floor, scratching deep grooves into the floor. It growled irritably.

Jace scrambled away, heading for the hallway. But the Ravener was too fast for him. Sprang again, landing above the door, staring down at him. It was making a series of strange hissing noises … and then Jace realised with a sense of horror that they were words.

"_Boy."_ It hissed. _"Flesh. Blood. To eat, oh, to eat."_

It began to slither down the wall. It crawled towards him. Jace backed away. He bumped into the bureau and the photo of him, his mother and Luke at Conney Island toppled over. Jace grasped it in his hand and flung it at the creature.

The photo bounced off the demons mid section and then fell to the floor. It did not seem to faze it in the least and it carried on advancing.

"_Bones, to crunch, to suck out the marrow, to drink the veins …"_

Jace backed away further and struck the wall. He had no where left to run. He felt something vibrate in his pocket and he jumped. His hand shot to his pocket and he drew out the Sensor. It seemed to burn in his hand and he gripped it tighter.

The Ravener leapt on him and sent him toppling to the ground. It was above him, jaws bared. Jace was twisting, listening as the creature hissed and groaned. He was trying to wrench an arm free. He managed to pull it free and he thrashed out at he demon moments before it snapped at him. The Sensor jammed between it's teeth. Jace cried out as acidic drool coated his wrist and throat.

The creature looked almost surprised and it jerked back. Jace watched the Ravener throw its head back … watched it swallow.

_I'm next_. He thought wildly.

Suddenly the thing spasmed. It rolled off him, squirming. Jace rolled over and started to scramble away from it. He'd almost made it to the door when he heard something whistle through the air by his head. He tried to duck but it was too late. An object slammed heavily into the back of his skull and he collapsed, knocked unconscious.

When Jace came to he was aware that he was lying on damp grass. He could hear a deafening wail and he winced.

Clary was kneeling beside him. She was tearing a piece of cloth into strips.

"Don't move." She whispered.

Jace turned his head t the side, and felt a stab of pain shoot down the back of his neck. He saw he was lying in the grass by the rosebushes. His view was partially hidden. But he made out the flashing lights of a police car. A small knot of neighbours had gathered.

Two police officers emerged, walking towards the apartment.

He tried to sit up, he couldn't.

"I told you not to move." Clary hissed. "The Ravener got you in the neck. It was half dead so it wasn't much of a sting, but we have to get you back to the Institute. Hold still."

"That thing – the monster – it _talked_." Jace shuddered uncontrollably.

"You've heard a demon talk before." Clary's hands were soft as she slipped the knotted cloth under his neck and tied it.

"That was an Eidolon demon. They're shapeshifters." Clary explained, as if that made perfect sense. "Raveners aren't quite so bothered about appearances. They're too stupid to care."

"It said it was going to eat me."

"Somebody like you would have given it indigestions. It's a good thing you killed it."

The pain at the back of his neck faded and he hauled himself into a sitting position.

"The police …" He said.

Clary shook her head. "Ten to one says those are probably demons. Look."

Jace looked to them and grimaced as he saw a skeletal hand.

"Demons have a way of hiding their tracks." Clary said.

Jace winced. "My Mom …"

"There's Ravener poison coursing your veins right now. You'll be dead in an hour if you don't come with me." Clary got to her feet. "Can you stand?"

"I think so …" Jace pushed to his feet and stumbled. Clary caught him, steadying him. She didn't smell as he expected a girl to. It was dirt and blood and metal. Most girls he knew smelled like either flowers or desserts.

Clary was glancing at the back of the house. "Can we get out through the alley?"

Jace shook his head. "It's bricked up. There's no way-"

He started coughing, and when he pulled his hand from his mouth his eyes widened as he saw them flecked red with blood.

Clary grasped his wrist. Jace felt his knees begin to buckle. But Clary held something in her hand. It was sharp and silver. Jace tried to pull away but he was growing weak and Clary held him firm. He felt a stinging kiss against his skin as Clary moved the thing over it. She drew a symbol, like overlapping circles.

"What … what did you do?" Jace murmured.

"It'll hide you. Temporarily. Now let's go." Clary slid the thing into her belt. Jace looked at it. It was a long luminous cylinder that tapered to a point. "My Stele." Clary explained, though he hadn't asked what it was.

Jace tried to keep moving, but weakness was slowly claiming him and his legs gave way. He heard Clary grumbling, and something that sounded like _Covenant_. And then he felt himself being shifted upwards, pressed against something. He could feel his body juddering. His head rested against something. His eyes opened and he saw he was resting on her shoulder, her red hair brushing his cheeks. He realised she was carrying him on her back. Then everything blacked out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry for the long update. Having problems with my laptop. Its an English one I've brought overseas running off a lower power watt so it doesnlt seem to like it - it's getting lsower and slower _ May soon have to get ... another laptop ... darn it. Anywayz... update! Any R&R appreciated. I'm trying to keep it so they have their original personalities so some of it is going to change ever so slightly but will be more or less the same.**

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"Do you think he'll ever wake up? It's been three days already."

"You have to give him time. Demon poison is strong stuff, and he's a mundane. He doesn't have runes like we do."

"Mundies die awfully easily, don't they?"

"Isabelle, you know it's bad luck to talk about death in a sick room."

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

_Three days?_ Jace thought slowly. _I have to wake up_.

But he couldn't. His dreams held him there, stuck. He dreamt of Luke standing atop a pile of bones. Clary stood with white feathered wings sprouting from her back. Isabelle naked with her whip coiling around her. Simon … with crosses burnt into his palms.

Then there were angels falling out of the sky, falling and burning.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

"I told you it was the same guy."

"I know. Clary says he killed a Ravener. But I hardly believe that."

"Yeah. Still … he is kind of cute, don't you think?"

A deep irritated sigh. "I wonder if Hodge will call on the Brothers."

"I hope not. They give me the creeps. Anyone who mutilates themselves like that-"

"We mutilate ourselves-"

"I know, Alec, but when we do it, it isn't permanent. And it doesn't always hurt …"

"Where is Clary? She carried him all the way here on her back. I would have thought she'd take some interest in his recovery."

"Hodge says she hasn't been here since she brought him here. I guess she doesn't care."

"Sometimes I wonder if she – Look! He moved!"

"I guess he's alive after all." A sigh. "I'll tell Hodge."

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Jace opened his eyes slowly. He a clear blue sky above him, white puffy clouds and chubby angels with gilded ribbons trailing from their wrists.

_Am I dead?_ He wondered. _Does heaven really look like this?_

He squeezed his eyes shut and then when he opened them again he realised it was just a painting.

Painfully he hauled himself upright. His neck throbbed. He looked around. He was in a small bed, one of many that lined the walls. There was a side table with a pitcher of water atop it.

"Morning, Handsome." Came a voice. "Hodge will be pleased. We all thought you'd die in your sleep."

Jace turned and saw Isabelle perched on the next bed, her hair wound into two braids. She wore jeans and a tight tank top.

"Sorry to disappoint you." Jace said. "Is this the Institute?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Was there anything Clary _didn't_ tell you?"

Jace coughed. "This is the Institute, right?"

"Yes. You're in the infirmary, not that you hadn't figured that out already."

A sudden sharp stabbing pain made Jace clutch his stomach, gasping.

Isabelle looked alarmed. "Are you okay?"

"My stomach …" Jace said, wincing.

"Oh. Right. I almost forgot. Hodge said to give you this when you woke up." Isabelle grabbed a ceramic pitcher and poured the contents into a matching cup. "You haven't eaten in three days." Isabelle pointed out, handing Jace the cup. "That's probably why you feel sick."

Jace took a sip. It wasn't all that bad. "What is it?"

Isabelle shrugged. "One of Hodge's tisanes. They always work." She slid off the bed, landing on the floor with a cat-like arch in her back. "I'm Isabelle Lightwood, by the way. I live here."

"I'm Jace. Jace Fray." He frowned. "Did Clary bring me here?"

Isabelle nodded. "Hodge was furious. You got ichor all over the entryway. If she'd done it while my parents were here, she'd have been grounded for sure." Isabelle narrowed her eyes at him. "Clary said you killed that Ravener demon all by yourself."

Jace smirked. "I guess I did."

"But you're a Mundie."

"I guess I'm really that awesome." Jace said, and then he frowned. "Where is Clary?"

Isabelle shrugged. "Somewhere," She said. "I should go and tell everyone you're up. Hodge'll want to talk to you."

"He's Clary's tutor, right?"

"Hodge tutors us all." She pointed. "The bathroom is through there. I grabbed some of Alec's clothes for you to borrow, in case you want to change."

"What happened to my clothes?"

"They were covered in blood and poison so Clary burned them."

"Or she just wanted to rip my clothes off." Jace snickered.

Isabelle passed him a narrow glare. "She would kill you if you said that. She's killed more demons than anyone else her age. I doubt she would mind taking you out."

"Is she your sister?"

Isabelle shook her head. "No. What gave you that idea?"

"Well … she lives here with you." Jace pointed out. "Doesn't she?"

"She does but …" Isabelle looked uncomfortable.

"Why doesn't she live with her own parents?"

"Because they're dead."

"Did they die in an accident?"

Isabelle shook her head. "You ask an awful lot of questions."

"No … it's just she seems kind of … distant. You two do the same thing but you're both really different."

Isabelle looked grim. "Her mother died before she was born and her father … he was murdered when she was ten. She saw the whole thing."

"Oh," Jace said quietly. "Demons?"

Isabelle sighed. "Look, I'm going to let everyone know you're up. They've been waiting for you to open your eyes for three days. There's soap in the bathroom. You smell terrible."

Jace glared at her. "Thanks a lot."

"Any time."

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Jace cleaned up in the bathroom. Alec's clothes fit pretty well. They were a similar build. Jace's shoulders were a little broader, so they were a little tight, but otherwise they weren't too bad. He had a black t-shirt on and some black jeans.

He had washed himself with a bar of lavender soap, and had scrubbed his blonde hair and now was rubbing it furiously dry. To say he didn't look his best was an understatement. His lips were swollen. He had a bruise on his left cheek.

_I have to call Luke_, he thought. There must be a phone somewhere in this place, and they would surely let him use it. He found his shoes at the floor of the bed, his house keys looped into the laces. He slid them on his feet and then went to look for Isabelle.

As he made his way down the corridor he heard a faint sound and he followed it. As he turned a corner, he realised it was a piano being played. He passed a door left open, and sitting at a piano was Clary. She was barefoot, wearing a white tunic shirt and jeans. The white of her shirt set off her red hair, which was loosely tied back.

He must have made some noise because Clary stopped and twisted around.

"Alec, is that you?" She called.

Jace stepped inside, grinning. "No. Just me."

Clary slid off the seat. "Well. I see somebody kissed you and woke you up."

"No. I woke up by myself."

"Was anyone with you?"

"Isabelle … but she went to get that Hodge guy. She told me to wait but-"

Clary chuckled. "I should have warned her about your habit of never doing as you're told." She squinted at him. "Are those Alec's clothes? It's a little strange to see you in them."

"I could point out that you burned my clothes." Jace said.

Clary gently closed the piano lid. "It was purely precautionary. Come on, I'll take you to Hodge."

As they made their way through the many hallways, Jace noted many small bedrooms, their doors open and all rooms were identical.

"Why are there so many bedrooms?" He asked.

"This is the residential wing. We're pledged to offer safety and lodging to any Shadowhunter who asks. We can house up to two hundred people here."

"Most of the rooms are empty."

"People come and go. Nobody stays for long. Usually it's just us – Alec, Isabelle, Max, their parents – and me and Hodge."

"Max?"

"You met Isabelle? Alec is her older brother and Max is the youngest. He's overseas with his parents."

"On vacation?"

"Not exactly," Clary hesitated. "You can think of them as foreign diplomats … of sorts. And this place as an Embassy. Right now they're in Shadowhunter country working out some very delicate peace negotiations. They brought Max with them because he's so young."

"Shadowhunter home country?"

"Idris."

"Never heard of it."

Clary sighed irritably. "Of course you haven't. You're just a Mundie."

"And yet," Jace grinned, irritating Clary more. "You carried me home and ripped my clothes off me."

Clary's glare was murderous … and then she calmed. "Mundanes don't know about it. There are wardings – protective spells all over the borders. If you tried to cross into Idris you'd find yourself instantly transported from one border to the next. You'd never know what happened."

"Guess it wouldn't be on any maps then."

"Not Mundane ones no. It's a small country between Germany and France."

Jace raised his brows. "But there's nothing … never mind. I'm sure you'll just pull another 'Mundie' comment." He sighed. "Have you ever been there?"

"I grew up there." Clary said, and though her tone was neutral, there was something else to it which indicated any further questions about it would not be welcome. "Most Shadowhunters do. It's like our holy land … our Mecca or Jerusalem. Of course … we travel the world … we go where demons are. But no matter what, Idris is always our home." Clary paused. "There are a few who grew up away form it – like Izzy and Alec. But that's because their parents are here …" Clary broke off and they stood at a set of doors. "We're here. The library."

A blue Persian cat with yellow eyes lay curled in front of them. It yowled and came towards them.

"Hey Church." Clary said and she bent down to pet it.

"Are Isabelle and Alec the only Shadowhunters your age that you spend time with?"

Clary stopped stroking the cat and stood. "Yes."

"Don't you ever get lonely?" Jace asked.

Clary rolled her eyes. "Look … if you're trying to make a line …"

Jace held his hands up in surrender. "No. Nothing like that."

Clary suddenly sighed. "I have everything I need here." And she pushed the doors open and strode inside, Jace following behind her.

The library inside was circular, with a ceiling that tapered to a point. Jace eyed the many shelves stacked with countless books. Jace enjoyed reading, it was something he and his mother used to do … though in the last few years he hadn't been reading quite so much.

"A book lover I see," Came a voice at the far end.

Jace saw a thin man with grey streaked hair and a beaky nose settled at a desk in the centre of the library. He wore a tweed jacket and reminded Jace of a college professor.

"You didn't tell me that, Clary." The man continued.

Clary sighed. "It's been kind of a short acquaintance … our reading habits didn't come up. I honestly didn't peg him for a book worm."

"Oh?" Jace looked at her.

"You struck me more as one of the egotistical surf boys." Clary said.

Jace opened his mouth to retort but the man came between them.

"Now, now." He said. "The boy has been through quite a lot as I understand it."

Jace saw a crow nestled on the man's shoulder that he hadn't seen before.

"This is Hugo." The man said.

"Who are you?" Jace asked.

"Hodge Starkweather." He held out his hand to shake.

Jace grasped it. "Jace Fray."

Hodge smiled. "A pleasure to meet your acquaintance." They let go of hands. "It is an honour to meet somebody who could kill a Ravener with his bare hands."

Jace grinned. "Yeah. That'd be me."

A sharp laughter sounded through the room. Jace hadn't noticed there was anyone else here. He turned to see Alec sprawled in an overstuffed armchair by the empty fireplace.

"You can't honestly believe him?" Alex said.

Jace watched him. He looked remarkably similar to Isabelle. They had the same black hair and the same slender eyebrows that winged up at the corners, and the same pale skin. But while Isabelle was out going, Alec looked as though he hoped nobody would notice him. The boy got up and walked over and as he drew near Jace saw that while Isabelle's eyes were dark, Alec's were a light blue. Those eyes looked at Jace in an odd way. Partly in hostility but also there was a strange expression on his face.

"It wasn't with his bare hands." Clary pointed out. "He shoved my Sensor down its throat. The runes must have choked it."

This only seemed to amuse Alec further.

"Oh please." Alec said, waving the matter away.

"I'm not sure what you mean, Alec." Hodge said. "Are you suggesting he didn't kill the demon after all?"

"Of course he didn't. I mean look at him. That pretty boy probably only has enough coordination to comb the back of his hair." Alec said.

Jace grinned at him. "Oh is that what you think I am? Well I have an idea why don't you suck on my-"

"Alec." Clary's voice cut in. "When I found him he was laying in a pool of blood from a dead demon that was practically on top of him. If he didn't kill it, who did?"

"Raveners are stupid. Maybe it got itself in the neck with it's own stinger-"

"Now you're suggesting it commit suicide?" Clary looked a little amused.

Alec's mouth tightened. "He shouldn't be here. Mundies aren't allowed in the Institute, and there are good reasons for that. If anyone knew about this we could be reported to the Clave."

"That's not entirely true." Hodge said. "The Law does allow us to offer sanctuary to mundanes in certain circumstances. A Ravener attacked his mother. He could well have been next."

Jace wondered whether that was a euphemism for _murdered_.

"Raveners are search-and-destroy machines." Alec said. "They act under orders from warlocks or powerful demon lords. Now, what interest would a warlock or demon lord have in an ordinary mundane household?" His eyes burned into Jace. "Any thoughts?"

"It must have been a mistake." Jace said.

"Demons don't make that kind of mistake. If they went after your mother, there must have been a reason. If she were innocent-"

"Just what the hell are you trying to say, you asshat?" Jace exploded.

Alec's eyes narrowed. "What did you call me?"

"You heard." Jace bit out.

"Now calm down." Hodge said.

Alec pointed furiously at Jace. "You're going to let some kid like him talk this way to me?"

"I'm seventeen." Jace snapped.

"That's not much older than Isabelle." Hodge said. "Would you call Isabelle a kid?"

"Isabelle hails from one of the greatest Shadowhunter dynasties in history." Alec said dryly. "This … this _boy_ meanwhile hails from New Jersey."

"I'm from Brooklyn!" Jace was outraged. "And so what? I just killed a demon in my own home, and you're being a total dick head just because I'm not a spoilt brat like you and your sister?"

Alec looked astonished. "How dare you!"

"Now, now, Alec." Clary said. "Why would you care what somebody like him says anyway? These little outbursts are probably why you don't even have a _parabatai_ yet."

Alec looked in disbelief at her. "His flippancy is beginning to grate on my nerves."

"And your obstinacy is wearing on mine." Jace said.

Hodge set his hand on both boys shoulders.

"What Alec meant," Hodge said. "Is that it is extremely unusual for a powerful demon, the kind who commands a host of lesser demons, to interest himself in the affairs of humans. No Mundane can summon a demon – they lack that power. But there have been some humans foolish enough to ask a witch or warlock to do it for them."

"My mother doesn't know any warlocks. She doesn't believe in magic." A thought occurred to Jace. "Wait … that old bat downstairs … Madam Dorothea. She's a witch. The demons probably went for her and got my Mom by mistake."

Hodge's brows raised. "A witch lives downstairs from you …?"

"She's a hedge-witch – a fake." Clary said setting a hand on her hip. "I already checked."

Hodge sighed. "And we're back to where we started." He stroked Hugo. "The time has come to inform the Clave."

"No!" Clary said, and everyone accounted for looked at her in surprise. "We can't-"

"It made sense to keep his presence here a secret until we knew if he would pull through. You know the rules, Clary." Hodge said.

Alec seemed to make a smug expression. "Yes. Hodge is right. I could send message to my father-"

"He's not a mundane." Clary said, her voice low.

Again everyone looked at her. Even Hodge looked surprised.

"The night of the demon attack … there were Du'sien demons dressed like police officers. So … I kind of … drew a _mendelin_ rune. I thought he was going to die." Clary sounded a little sheepish.

"You _what_?" Alec burst.

"Are you out of your _mind_?" Hodge pitched in, his voice high. "You know what the Law says about Marking Mundanes. You of all people should know this."

"Look – Jace was too weak to run. There wasn't time to hide. He would have died otherwise." Clary said. "Jace – show them your arm."

All eyes turned to Jace now, who awkwardly turned over his arm. The mark was almost gone but it still showed.

"It worked. It's almost gone … and it didn't hurt him." Clary said.

"That's not the point!" Hodge sounded as if he could barely contain himself. "You could have turned him into a Forsaken."

Alec flushed. "Just what has gotten into you, Clary? You know that only Shadowhunters can receive Covenant Marks – they _kill_ mundanes-"

"I keep telling you – he's not a mundane." Clary said. "It makes perfect sense. That's why he can see us. He must have Clave blood."

Jace scoffed. "You think I'm one of _you_ lunatics? Puh-lease."

Clary just grinned at him, and there was something oddly familiar about her smile that Jace couldn't place. "If you didn't, then the Mark I put on your arm would have …"

"That's enough, Clary." Hodge said, the displeasure clear in his voice. "There's no need to frighten him further."

"But I'm right, aren't I?" Clary said. "It would explain why a demon was sent after his mother. If she was a Shadowhunter in exile, she might well have Downworlder enemies."

Jace rolled his eyes. "No way was my Mom one of you."

"Your father then." Clary said. "What about him?"

"Died before I was born."

Clary flinched slightly, and swallowed.

"That might make a little more sense." Alec said in her place. "If his father were a Shadowhunter and his mother a mundane. It's against the law to marry a mundane. They were probably in hiding."

"My mother would have told me." Jace said.

But he couldn't deny that it was a little strange that his mother only had one picture of his father and never spoke of him.

"We all have our secrets." Clary said.

"Luke," Jace said. "Our friend. He would know. Can I use your phone?"

Hodge nodded and pointed to the phone by a globe. Jace hurried over and dialled Luke.

After three rings he picked up. "Hello?"

"Luke!" Jace felt relieved. "It's me. Jace."

"Jace." Jace heard relief in his voice … but something else. "You're alright?"

"I'm fine." Jace said. "I'm sorry I didn't call you before. My mom-"

"I know. The police were here."

"Then you haven't heard from her." Jace frowned. "What did the police say?"

"Just that she went missing. Where are you?"

"I'm in the city with …" Jace hesitated. "Some … friends." He rolled his eyes. "My wallets gone, though. I uh … lost it. If you've got some cash I could get a cab-"

"No." Luke said.

Jace almost dropped the phone. "What?"

"No." Luke repeated. "It's too dangerous. You can't come here."

"We could call-"

"Look," Luke's voice was hard. "I've had enough of bailing you out of trouble, Jace. It's time to man up. Whatever your mother has gotten mixed up in … I don't want any part of. Sort yourself out, Jace."

"But Luke-"

"Dammit Jace I'm not your father!" Luke snapped. "I'm not going to pick up the pieces for you anymore."

"I'm sorry, Luke, this is serious-"

"Don't call me for favours again. I've got my own problems, I don't need to be bothered by yours." And he hung up.

Jace's brows drew into a scowl. Then he slammed the phone down. His fingers curled into fists, teeth gritted.

Hodge studied him.

"I think I'd like a moment to talk to Jace." He said.

Alec shrugged. "Fine with me."

"That's hardly fair." Clary objected. "I'm the one who found him. I saved him. Don't you need me?"

Jace grinned at her. "Well now. I knew you couldn't resist my charms."

Clary tossed her head and looked away from him.

"Let's just go." Alec said, passing a scathing glance to Jace. "Boy wonder can handle himself."

Jace glared at the boy.

Clary walked out. "I'm going to get a new Sensor. Come on, Alec."

And they walked out.

Jace watched them go with a slightly satisfied smirk. He then looked at Hodge. And he sagged, sinking dejectedly into an armchair.

Hodge wandered over. "Now I know you've had a trying time-"

"Trying?" Jace repeated bitterly. "Not the word I'd use. But I suppose."

"Is there something I can get for you?" Hodge asked. "Something to drink? Tea?"

Jace made a low frustrated growl, slamming his fists onto the arms of the chair. "I don't _want_ tea. I want to find my mother. And I want to find who took her. And I want to kill them."

"Unfortunately," Hodge said. "We're all out of bitter revenge at the moment, so it's tea or nothing."

Jace just glared at the ceiling. "What am I supposed to do?"

"You could start by telling me happened." Hodge said. "The demon you saw in your apartment – was that the first creature you'd ever seen? You had no inkling such creatures existed before?"

"Other than the one in Pandemonium … not really."

"Oh yes. I remember. Is that the first time that had ever happened?"

"Yeah."

"And your mother never mentioned them to you? Nothing about a world that most people cannot see? Did she seem particularly interested in myths, fairy tales, legends-"

"She hated that kind of thing. She even hated Disney movies. She didn't even like me reading manga or comics. Even the idea of super heroes she said was childish." Jace shrugged and then threw himself to his feet.

"Most peculiar," Hodge said.

Jace shrugged. "That's my Mom for you. Just … the most normal person I know I guess."

"Normal people generally don't find their homes ransacked by demons."

Jace paced, feeling a little impatient. "I guess it was a mistake. There's nothing demons could have wanted with us … with my mother … or me."

"If it were a mistake, and you were an ordinary boy, you would not have seen the demon that attacked – or if you had your mind would have processed it as something different. A vicious dog or even another human being. You even said that it spoke to you-"

"Who told you that?"

"Clary reported that you said 'it talked'."

Jace sighed. "Figures." He sighed. "It said it wanted to eat me but I don't think it was supposed to. Guess I'm just too handsome to resist even to a demon."

Hodge said nothing, and simply regarded the golden haired boy. "Raveners are generally under the control of a stronger demon. They're not very capable on their own. Did it say what its master was looking for?"

Jace squinted, remembering. "Looking for a date I suppose. Though hopefully not with me."

Hodge looked at him, his brows shooting up. "Come again?"

"Valentine. It said something about a valentine …" Jace frowned, and then caught how pale Hodge had suddenly gone. "Is something wrong?"

"Valentine …" Hodge murmured, starting to shake.

"Come to think of it … the demon in Pandemonium said the same thing … something about a valentine. Is it really a big deal for demons or something?"

Hodge sank into a chair as if completely weary. "No. Not a Valentine. Valentine … is a name we all know."

"A demon?"

"No Valentine is – was – a Shadowhunter."

"A Shadowhunter?" Jace folded his arms over his chest. "Why do you say _was_?"

"Because he's dead. He's been dead for seventeen years."

Jace sighed deeply. None of this made sense, and it was overwhelming him … but right now he didn't imagine anything was going to change it … and he was a little curious.

"Could it be somebody with the same name?"

Hodge shook his head. "No. But it could have been somebody using it to send a message. And now would be the perfect time to do so."

"Hmmm? Why?"

"Because of the Accords."

"Oh. Clary mentioned them. Peace negotiations." Jace suddenly thought of something. "Peace with who exactly …?"

"Downworlders." Hodge said slowly and then he rose from his seat. "Forgive me … I must be confusing you more than explaining."

"That's an understatement."

Hodge chuckled, though there was no humour in his voice. "Downworlders are those who share the Shadow World with us. We have always lived an uneasy peace with them."

"You mean the Vampires and Werewolves and stuff?"

"The Fair Folk." Hodge said. "Faeries. And Lilith's Children, being half demon, are warlocks."

"So what are Shadowhunters?"

"We are sometimes called Nephilim. In the bible they are the offspring of humans and angels. " Hodge went on to explain the legend of the origin of the Shadowhunters and the Mortal Cup. " … Though the legend may not be fact, what is true is that through the years when ever our numbers depleted it was always possible to create new Shadowhunters with that cup."

Jace's brow rose. "Was …?"

"The cup was destroyed by Valentine." Hodge explained. "He set a great fire and burned himself along with his wife and child."

Jace snorted. "He sounds like father of the year. Glad I don't have an asshole father like that."

Hodge went on to explain the Uprising briefly, but Jace was starting to feel like his head was pounding with everything he had been told.

"I just don't understand what any of this has got to do with my mother." Jace said.

"I don't know either. But I shall do what I can to find out. I will send messages to the Clave and also the Silent Brothers. They will probably want to talk to you."

Jace didn't want to bother with any more questions. He just wanted to get out of here. He looked at Hodge.

"Is there any chance I could go home?"

Hodge looked concerned. "No, I-I don't think that would be wise."

"I have to see." Jace said, his hands bunching into fists. "I need to see what's left… if anything."

Hodge paused, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. "If Clary agrees to go … then she can take you."

Jace grinned as if he had won a sweeping victory. No problem. He could win the red headed cutie no problem.

"She's in the weapon room." Hodge said.

"I don't know where that it."

"Church will take you."

Jace turned and as if on cue, Church came bounding over, yowling. Jace had always liked cats … but his mother never got one because cats hated Luke. He followed behind it, listening to it chatter away. Jace found himself smiling and started having a conversation with it.


	6. Chapter 6

Jace walked into the weapon room and found Clary and Alec at a table, lining up weapons. Clary looked up as he came in them promptly looked away. Alec meanwhile was glaring at him

"You know I always liked a girl who knew how to handle long things." Jace said, sauntering over to Clary. "It makes this so much easier."

Clary stood and spun just as he neared her, grabbing the front of his shirt. She was surprisingly strong. "That's not very clever, considering I wouldn't hesitate to skin you alive. You're in a weapon room, idiot."

"Mmm. I knew you couldn't keep your hands off me, shorty." Jace said, laughing.

Clary shoved him away, which only made Jace laugh further. Alec meanwhile was squaring up to Jace, grasping his shoulder.

"I think maybe you should just leave." He said.

Jace picked Alec's hand off him. "Great idea. Actually, Hodge said I could go home. But I need Clary to take me."

"What?" Clary burst.

Jace folded his arms over his chest. "I wanted to look through my Mom's things, and he said Clary had to escort me."

Alec narrowed his eyes. "I'll go too."

Jace shook his head. "No way. He was very specific. Clary only."

"Look you don't get to tell me what to do-"

"Its fine, Alec." Clary cut in, stepping between the boys. "If we leave now there should be about three or four hours of daylight left. We can handle this on our own."

Alec stared incredulously at her. But said nothing, and refused to meet Jace's gaze either.

Clary grabbed a set of Seraph blades, looping them into her belt.

"Down the rabbit hole we go." Clary said and she left.

Jace followed her, admiring her quick pace. Most girls struggled to keep up with him. But Clary was different – though short. He kind of liked it though.

"Do you have your house keys?" Clary asked.

"I sure do." Jace said.

"Not that I couldn't have gotten in without them … but it'd just draw less attention with them." Clary said.

"You know you can break into my room anytime you want." Jace said, wiggling his brows at him.

Clary just sighed deeply, wondering why she had even agreed to go. They got into the bird cage elevator and stood while they waited for it to lower.

Jace leaned against the mirrored wall. Clary simply glanced at him from the corner of her eye.

"What do you think you're doing, Mundie …?" She asked.

"Just making the most of the view." Jace said, glancing down at her.

He was promptly slapped round the face. Jace stumbled back, rocking back on his heels. He grasped his face which stung.

"Jeez. What was that for?" He asked.

She sniggered. "The price for the view."

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

Jace spent the train ride to his place in an angry silence. The red mark from her slap was glowing across his cheek. Clary stood silently beside him. She turned to him.

"I think you have a fan club." Clary pointed to a group of girls giggling and looking at him.

"Of course I do. I am stunningly attractive." Jace passed them a suave smile and their laughter grew.

Clary sighed as if weary. "Don't you know that modesty is an attractive trait?"

"Only from ugly people," Jace confided. "The meek may inherit the earth, but at the moment it belongs to the conceited. Like me."

Clary rolled her eyes.

"Aww what's the matter, are you jealous?" He asked, and then blanched at her glare.

"You know … I could kill you and say the demons got to you." Clary said, a wicked smile across her face, her green eyes glinting. "They'd believe me too."

Jace swallowed. He studied her. Her hair was still loosely tied behind her. He decided that there was a ninety percent chance her threat was real. Judging by what he had seen … he thought maybe he should make it one hundred percent.

"Wait … can those girls see you?" Jace asked, trying to change the subject.

"Glamours are a pain to use. Sometimes we don't bother." Clary said. "It's not like this is a covert operation or anything.

They got off the train and made their way up the hill to Jace's apartment. Jace started humming.

"Do you have to do that?" Clary grumbled.

Jace simply started humming louder.

Clary whirled quicker than Jace had seen her move, and thumped him between then legs. Jace doubled over and she kept on walking, unceremoniously leaving him behind. He grunted.

"I knew you liked me …" He managed.

Clary simply flipped him her middle finger and carried on walking until he could catch up with her.

"So …" He said, trying to start into a conversation. "What's the deal with you and Alec … are you … you know … a couple? Is that why he hates me?"

"Alec and I are like brother and sister. His father and mine were parabatai, and his father is my God father – that's why I live with them."

"Para – what?"

"_Parabatai_. It means a pair of warriors who fight together – who are closer than brothers. The Lightwoods are my adopted family."

"Oh. So your guys don't have the same surname."

She shook her head. "No."

They got to the apartment and it looked much the same.

"God … I expected police tape and broken glass … or rubble. But it looks perfect." Jace said.

"On the outside." Clary reminded him, and she reached into her pocket and drew out the Sensor.

"What does it do?" Jace asked, pointing.

"It picks up frequencies, like a radio does. But these frequencies are demonic in origin."

"Demon shortwave?"

Clary nodded. "Something like that."

She held the Sensor out in front of her as they approached the house and it clicked faintly. They walked inside and climbed the stairs.

"Are we in the clear?" Jace asked, gulping.

"It's only picking up trace activity, probably just left over from the other night. But it's not strong enough for anything to be here now."

Jace sighed with relief. He took out his keys and unlocked the door. He swallowed hard when he saw the long deep claw marks in the wood of the door, something he hadn't noticed before and his body grew cold.

Clary's hand was on his shoulder. "I'll go first."

Jace wanted to say something about 'ladies first' but he couldn't. He remembered the terror he had felt that night, and what happened suddenly became so fresh and raw in his mind. Clary stepped inside, waving the Sensor in front of her. Jace followed blankly behind her.

The skylight was filthy dirty and the bulb over head had blown casting heavy shadows around them. Jace glanced to Madame Dorothea's door, and it didn't look like anyone was home. No light showed beneath the door. Jace wondered if anything had happened to her. He'd never liked the old bat much, but he didn't think she deserved to be attacked by demons.

They made their way up the stairs. Clary raised her hand along the banister and it came away wet, streaked with something blackish-red in the dim light.

"Blood." She said.

"Maybe it's mine."

She shook her head. "It'd be dry by now if it were. Let's keep moving."

Jace was closed behind Clary. It was dark and his mind was getting fuzzy remembering what had happened, and he was trying hard to hold back the tremors in his body. If Clary could hold it down, he could be a man and hold it too.

"Stop breathing down my neck." Clary snapped at him.

Jace swallowed, and didn't say anything back. His hands were fumbling with his keys. Clary stood back to allow him to get to the door. He slid the key in and twisted it open. Clary then slid in front of him, her back pressed tight against his chest. She grasped the handle and twisted it open, slinking inside.

Jace followed behind her. He sucked in a cold breath as he saw the whole place was empty – like when they had first moved in. Everything was gone. The furniture. The appliances. The floor was bare. There were lighter squares on the walls where the paintings had been. Even the curtains had been torn down.

Jace wandered into the kitchen. Even the cabinets were empty.

"What would demons want with our microwave?" He asked.

Clary shrugged. "I don't know. But I'm not sensing any demonic presence tight now … so I guess they're long gone by now."

Jace paced around, noting that the Tabasco sauce had even been cleaned up.

"Are you satisfied?" Clary asked, folding her arms over her chest. "There's nothing here."

Jace shook his head. "I want to see my room."

Clary sighed. "If that's what it takes … come on."

Jace managed a chuckle as he grasped the handle to his room. "That eager to get into my room are we …?"

Clary scowled at him as he twisted the handle, but it was sticky. Just as Clary was about to retort, the door blew outwards, knocking him off his feet. He skidded across the hallway floor and slammed into the wall, rolling onto his stomach.

Clary, pressed against the wall was fumbling in her pocket, her face a mask of surprise. Looming over her was a Forsaken. Clary grasped a seraph blade in her hand and raised it.

"Sansanvi!" She called.

The blade shot out of the tube, and Jace was reminded of the old movies where bayonets were hidden inside walking sticks, released at the flick of a switch. But this blade was clear as glass, with a glowing hilt and almost as long as his forearm.

Clary struck out, slashing at the Forsaken, which staggered back with a bellow.

Clary whirled around, racing towards Jace. Her fingers wound around his arm and hauled him to his feet with a strength that didn't seem to fit somebody of her size. She dragged him down the hall. Jace could hear the Forsaken behind them, its feet thudding on the floor.

The two sped through the entryway and out to the landing. Clary shoved Jace through and whipped around the slam the door closed. The automatic lock clicked closed. The Forsaken must have slammed into the door because the door shook on its hinges.

Jace was backing away. He looked to see if Clary was behind him, but she stood where she was.

"Get downstairs!" She shouted, her eyes alight. "Get out of the-"

Another blow came, and this time the hinges gave way and the door flew outwards. Jace gasped thinking it was going to knock Clary over, but she moved so fast Jace barely saw it. Suddenly she was on the top stair, the blade burning in her hand like a fallen star.

Jace heard Clary shout something to him, but he couldn't make out the words over the din of the Forsaken that burst out from the fallen door. Jace flattened himself against the wall and the Forsaken swept by him. Jace wrinkled his nose at the smell. It was whirling its axe at Clary, aiming for her head.

Clary gave a devilish grin, which seemed to further enrage the creature, and it abandoned its axe and lunged for her. Clary swung the seraph blade in an arcing sweep, burying it to the hilt in the creature's shoulder. For a moment the giant stood swaying. Then it lurched forwards, hands outstretched and grasping.

Clary stepped aside, but not quick enough. The Forsaken caught hold of her and the giant staggered and fell dragging Clary in its wake.

Jace cried out in panic, scrambling to his feet and racing down the stairs.

Clary lay sprawled at the foot of the steps, her arm bent beneath her at an awkward angle. Across her leg lay the Forsaken. Her blade protruded from its shoulder and it was not quite dead yet. Jace swallowed back past the rising bile in his throat. Clary was still, unmoving. He sank down, his hand touching her shoulder.

"Clary …?" He said, his voice a little too shaky for his liking.

Clary's eyes opened slowly. "Is it dead?"

Jace smiled loosely. Not the kind of thing a damsel was supposed to say when she woke. But then, she was no damsel. "Almost. It's still moving."

"Damn." Clary said, hissing. "My legs …"

Jace licked his lips. "Hold still."

Clary rolled her eyes. "I'll try."

Jace crawled around to her head, and slipped his hands under her arms. He pulled her out and she made a groan of pain as her legs slipped out from beneath the spasming Forsaken. Jace let go and Clary struggled to her feet, her arm across her chest.

"Is your arm okay?" Jace asked.

"It's broken." Clary informed him calmly. "Can you reach into my pocket?"

Jace hesitated. "Which one?"

"Inside jacket, right side. Take out one of the seraph blades and hand it to me."

Jace gingerly set his hands inside, trying hard not to touch anything he shouldn't. He didn't doubt she could probably castrate him even with a broken arm. He slipped his fingers into her pocket. It was strange to this close to her. He could smell the scent of her. She had the slightest hint of something citrus. Her breath tickled the back of his neck. His fingers enclosed around a tube and he drew it out.

Clary grasped it from him.

"Thanks." She said and then she spoke softly the words _Sanvi_.

Just as before a long blade slid out, illuminating her delicate face. She moved to stand over the Forsaken.

"I wouldn't watch if I were you." She said. "This part isn't pretty. You have been warned."

Jace swallowed but he didn't look away. Instead he watched as she drove the blade down. Blood sprayed over her booted feet. The Forsaken gurgled one last time and then fell still. Jace looked to Clary. She looked a little white face, her mouth drawn into a grim line.

"It doesn't make you a tough guy … if you stay and watch you know." Clary said.

"No … it's not that." Jace said. "In thought it would vanish – like that guy in Pandemonium. You said demons go back to their own dimension."

"Yes. I did. And _demons_ do. But this was no demon. " Clary pulled out the stele in her belt. She touched it to an inked mark just below her shoulder, and connected it up.

"What are you doing?" Jace asked.

"This is a stele. And this is what happens when Shadowhunters are injured." Clary said, hissing lightly as she connected the points of the star rune. Slowly the look of pain left her face and she moved her broken arm, flexing her fingers. Obviously it was no longer broken.

"Awesome trick." Jace said. "What is that?"

"It's an _Iratze_. A healing rune." Clary said. "Finishing the rune with a stele activates it." She slid the stele back into her belt, and then glanced at the Forsaken. "Hodge is going to blow a gasket when he hears about this …"

"What is it anyway?" Jace asked, staring at it. "Why didn't your Sensor pick up on it? If it wasn't a demon, what was it?"

"A Forsaken. You see those marks over its face, right? Well … this is what happens to when Marks are carved into someone who doesn't have Shadowhunter blood. Just one mark will burn you but lots … will make you one of these." Clary watched as Jace swallowed. "The runes are agonizingly painful, and the Marked ones go insane – the pain drives them out of their minds. They become fierce mindless killers. They don't sleep or eat unless you make them, and they usually die quickly. Runes are very powerful and can be used for great good – but also for great evil. That's all the Forsaken are. Evil."

Jace shook his head as if he could get rid of the sight of the grotesque thing. "Why would anyone do that to themselves?"

"Nobody would. It's something that gets done to them. By a Warlock maybe, or some Downworlder gone bad. The Forsaken are loyal to the one who Marked them. They can obey simple commands too. They're like a slave army." Clary turned and started up the stairs. "I'm going back up, you stay here."

"But there's nothing up there." Jace said.

"There may be more of them up there." Clary said.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Came a familiar voice. "There are more where the first came from."


End file.
